


You're Not The Only One Awake

by khaoskeeper



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Comics), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ambiguous Gender, Anxiety, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/?, M/M, Nightmares, One Shot, Platonic Cuddling, Reader-Insert, Short One Shot, f/m - Freeform, general cuddles, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 21:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5513537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khaoskeeper/pseuds/khaoskeeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After joining up with the Guardians, you keep having nightmares.  It's come to the point that the team can't ignore it anymore, and Peter has decided that he can definitely probably help. Maybe. But he's at least going to try. </p><p>Genderless reader ( can be nonbinary, cis, etc )</p><p>Just a nice reader-insert of Peter Quill cuddles!</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Not The Only One Awake

You were awoken by broken sobs, someone shaking you, and a voice calling out what vaguely sounded like your name.

  
It took you a second to realize the screaming was coming from your own mouth, and you immediately jumped up and away from the hands on your shoulder, scrambling back on the bed and tucking your knees up to your chest. Wild-eyed and verging on manic, your eyes swept your quarters on the Milano, and concerned eyes and one pair belonging to a seriously pissed raccoon stared back from varying distances. Gamora, wide-stanced and ready for a fight leaning against the door frame, Drax behind her with weapons drawn, Rocket muttering under his breath atop your desk, and Peter, perpetually unprepared, in boxers and a shirt, sitting on his knees beside you on your bed, hands up in surrender as he pulled them away from your shoulder.

  
Still, you clutched the covers to you, terror gripping you as you felt tears running down your face and gulped at the air around you as if you had been underwater much too long. You were supposed to be strong . Obviously, you had awoken the whole ship, and they were seeing you like this. You tried to stand, but Peter reached out and grasped your wrists, keeping you still.

  
“Woah, hey…woah there” He looked earnestly at you and, releasing you, crawled closer, one hand reaching out and touching your shoulder, the other waving dismissively at his comrades behind him.

  
“But Quill, what has attacked them?” Drax demanded, pushing forward through your door, with knife drawn and ready.

  
“Will you give it a rest man? I…let me deal.” Peter retorted tensely with some exasperation in his sigh, shooting a look at Gamora, who in turn cocked her head to one side and tapped Rocket, both turning to leave. Drax growled lowly and sheathed his knife, disappointed in the lack of what he expected to be an entertaining fight.

  
Looking from you to Drax, Peter rolled his eyes and tried to look cross, if that existed within him. “Buddy, I got this. You can go.” Your breathing had slowed and you swallowed, barely nodding towards the large blue-skinned man, and he turned out the door.

  
Peter visibly relaxed and followed him to the entry, and pressed a button, causing your door to slide shut. He clicked the lock, and turned to gaze back at you, expression heavy with confusion and concern.

  
“They really mean well, they just…they’re a freaking jumpy bunch. With reason, ‘course, but…hey, they-”

  
He trailed off as he met your eyes, tears still slowly making their way down your cheeks. Choppy hair sweeping back from his face, it turned disheveled on one side where he had been sleeping on it. He was lucky black boxers matched everything, let alone the tattered navy shirt he was pulling at anxiously. Pausing briefly with what seemed to be indecision, he stumbled back over to you, and sat, bringing a hand up to your face and wiping at your tears with his thumb.

  
You shook your head and turned away, partly embarrassed and partly angry at yourself. “I’m sorry about this…” you mumbled, covering your face and hastily wiping away any other traces of weakness. You couldn’t let him see you like this; you can’t have him losing respect for you.

  
“Sorry? About that!? I need to record that and make it the ship’s alarm, I’ve never seen those asses move so fast!” Peter chuckled, but immediately clammed up as you turned and glared at him.

  
“Not helping.” He asserted, and you gauged by his expression that he was mentally slapping himself.

  
“Not particularly” you grumbled, recovering your usual mask of impassiveness and turning to get up and stand in front of him where he sat on the side of your bed.

  
“I’ll be okay. You can go.” You stated with false confidence, voice wavering just slightly at the end of your sentence, giving away your guise of stability.

  
He gaped up at you doubtfully, and then his mouth pressed in a line with about as much seriousness as his childish personality could manage. Standing to meet you, he looked down at you and grasped your shoulders, spinning you so that he was standing in front of you and the back of your knees met the edge of the bed. His fingers lingered as they grasped your shoulders, his expression somber.

  
“Yeah, you know that’s not happening” His lips muttered softly, and he pressed your shoulders down so you were sitting once again, looking up at him. He crossed his arms, but you knew he couldn’t be assertive like that with you, not when you were like this. You pulled at your tank-top, one of the straps falling out of place and exposing more than you wanted to. Again you looked away and pouted, biting half of your lower lip and chewing, deciding what to do. Instead, Peter sighed, and, crouching down, he looked up at you and smiled, laughing just a bit.

  
“Look, you’re not waking me-all of us- up like that just to make me get out. ‘Cause I’m not gonna.” You looked down, but he moved his head lower than yours, so he maintained eye contact. He placed a finger under your chin and lifted your head. “I’m not gonna make you say anything. But I’m staying until you do.” And suddenly, he was scooping your legs up and onto the bed, and flopping unceremoniously beside you – on his face, no arms to catch him. This made you smirk a little, and he looked up at you, a mildly accomplished grin on his face. You closed your eyes, and sat up, hugging your knees to you.

  
“I don’t want anyone to think I’m weak…I don’t want you to think…I just…” You began, clenching your jaw as the words left your mouth, looking anywhere but at him. Your eyes squeezed shut. The tears were coming again, and you just couldn’t stop them. Nothing you could do would make it better, and here you were, crying in front of the man you wanted – needed- respect from, because it was the only way you would think that he’d care about you in the same way you cared about him.

  
Arms were wrapping around your waist, and for a second your soliloquy paused, as the feeling was so unexpected. He sat behind you and pulled you into him, curling his body around yours, the atmosphere suddenly changing, charged by the contact. You could feel his breath against the back of your neck before he hesitantly rested his chin on your shoulder.

  
“I don’t know what else to do, (y/n)” He admitted, obviously at a loss, his joking tone gone with the tears that escaped your control. Reaching down, you touched his hands where they were placed on your stomach, then moved to set them on his knees, that were bent on either side of you. You sat and took it in, graciously. The warmth, being enveloped, being held. You decided it wasn’t a weak feeling. It made you bolder, more forthcoming.

  
“I feel alone. I’m so afraid I’m going to lose everything. You. Everyone. It feels…alone. No one knows I feel it, or no one cares, or… understands it.” You admitted, losing yourself to the emptiness the thought made you feel. He only pulled you in tighter.

  
“I do now.”

 

You nodded, taking one deep breath in, and slowly letting it out, letting the anxiety seep its way out gradually. Leaning back into him, he began to trace patterns on your knee gently. "Thank you..." you mumbled, before drifting off to the sound of shared breathing with a warm heartbeat as your pillow.


End file.
